


Don't Go Looking For Goodbye

by AllusionToReality



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Army, M/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 07:48:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4556556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllusionToReality/pseuds/AllusionToReality
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He wanted to do this, he wanted to be a soldier. He’d already gone through boot camp, graduating with some of the highest honors during AIT. He was strong, he was prepared, and once he got the order to be shipped out of the country on a tour, he took it immediately.</p>
<p>Based on Troye Sivan's, "Fun" from his EP, TRXYE</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Go Looking For Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> I got a prompt to do a fic based on "Fun" EONS ago, and I finally decided to release the fic as chaptered rather than the whole story at once.
> 
> I tried to make it as realistic as possible, but I know there will be mistakes. Please be patient with me, and if I seriously mess something up, feel free to leave a comment on here or message me on my tumblr: www.phanalog.tumblr
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Phil’s mother insisted on throwing him a going away party. And not a boring one either. He had just responded by chuckling and shaking his head. She was used to him leaving and coming back three times now, but this was going to be the farthest away he had been from home on a mission. He was the first one considered for the job, seeing as the Chief Master Sergeant and him worked so well together on their last mission. The commissioners knew this mission was going to be long and stressful, and they wanted people who worked well together and were natural leaders. This had Phil Lester’s name written all over it.  


He had been in the airman first class for almost 28 months, but rumors were circulating of him being promoted early. He had already participated in his Below-The-Zone test, but had another 2 months before finding out if he made the cut or not. Everyone in the force had bets on Phil getting the promotion, considering he stood out from the rest of his sector of privates.  


Phil’s mother took the opportunity to brag at his party. She was so proud of her son, so nobody minded how much she talked about the promotion, the upcoming mission, or anything else. Phil’s father tried to steer her to other topics, but somehow she always made the conversation come back to Phil.  


Phil stayed in the back for most of the party, despite the spotlight being on him the entire time. Funnily enough, nobody really noticed his frequent disappearances. He preferred to stay in the back, and two years in the army was never going to change that. The one person he talked to the most was his girlfriend, but tonight their conversations kept dwindling to short answers and awkward pauses. Eventually she exasperatedly sighed and pushed off the wall she was leaning against, turning to face Phil straight on. She placed a hand on his chest, and stood up on her toes to whisper into his ear.  


“When this party’s over, come find me. I’ll be waiting up in your bedroom.”  


Phil’s eyes followed her as she leaned back, smirking. She winked before slinking away to the staircase, where she gave a small wave before completely disappearing upstairs. Phil sighed heavily, more out of relief rather than pleasure. Looking around the dimly lit room of other people, he decided to move into the kitchen to get a drink.  


The party may have been planned by his mother, but there was no shortage of alcohol for his friends. Some were lazily dancing to some indie music coming from someone’s ipod, which posed quite a difficulty with Phil trying to maneuver in between them to get into the kitchen. When he reached the entrance of the kitchen, a hand reached out to grab his upper arm. Phil turned his head to find his friend, Will, and gestured with a nod for Will to follow him into the kitchen.  


They waited until they were out of the living room, where there was significantly less noise and distractions. Phil grabbed two glasses out of his cabinet, and turned back to Will, handing him one. Will accepted the empty glass, then leaned up against the kitchen cabinets as Phil walked to sink, filling his glass with water.  


“Nervous about leaving, then?” Will questioned, exchanging places with Phil to fill the glass in his hand with alcohol of some kind.  
Phil shrugged, “Not really. I mean, it’s my fourth mission. Sure, this is my first one out of the country, but I wouldn’t say I'm nervous about it.”  


Will nodded hesitantly, and silence settled between them that slowly began to become awkward. Will leaned off of the counter, stretching out to look through the doorway into the living room. He seemed to be searching for someone, and when he didn’t find them, turned back towards Phil.  


“Do you know where Mia is?”  


Phil snapped out of his day dream, and brought his eyes up to look at his friend.  


“Uh, yeah… she went to go change, someone spilled beer on her shirt.” Phil quickly retorted, glad he was able to come up with an excuse.  


Will nodded, appearing satisfied with that answer. They talked for a while more, but it seemed more like a forced conversation. Will seemed to be using this as a time to get any final conversation in before Phil left, but he was scraping the bottom of the barrel. Eventually, Will clapped his hand on his friends back, excusing himself to go to the toilet.  


Phil left the kitchen shortly after Will did, trying to find conversation outside of his head. The party was dwindling down, people stumbling out of the door with slurred goodbyes waved towards Phil. He politely offered to walk some people to their cars, doing this four or five times until the last set of headlights turned out of his front gate.  


Walking back into his house, Phil realized he didn’t get a goodbye from Will. So, he was either still there, or had opted not to give farewell. Looking out into the front garden confirmed it was not the latter.  


“Maybe he’s still in the toilet”  


After sneaking away from his mother, who had switched from “going-away-party mom” to “cleaning mom 3000”, Phil headed upstairs. He went to check the bathroom for Will, but the door was open, and no one was inside. Confused, Phil turned and started walking towards his bedroom. However, when he got there, the door was shut. The voice in the back of his head spoke up, but Phil tried to ignore it. He started to open the door. What he was thinking was the worst possible situation, Will was probably just…  


On top of his girlfriend.  


``````````````  


The flight from London to the Middle East plus the helicopter ride was almost more air travel than Dan could handle. He would have been okay if he didn’t have to fly on a commercial airline, but it was the only one in the UK. He knew sleep was going to be impossible with how anxious he was, but the loud children behind him just added to the impossibleness.  


“Great, it’s barely the first day and I’m already sick of flying. Great start Dan, great.”  


He stared at his hands until the helicopter landing, opting to make friends later. The other soldiers were already socializing, talking about older missions and throwing out pointers to the new privates, like Dan. He didn’t recognize anyone sitting around him, and Dan realized he could have been the only one from his sector to be deported.  


The realization caused him to curl into himself slightly. Sure, he would meet new people, but being in a strange, new place without a familiar face was  


“So,” a voice near him suddenly spoke up, making Dan slightly jump.  


“what’s your story, quiet boy?”  


Dan raised his eyes to meet the speaker, finding a slightly older man looking at him expectantly. He looked to the other soldiers sitting around him, and they all had the same expression. Curiosity, tiredness, slight intimidation.  


Dan took a deep breath and tore his hands away from the handle of his backpack that he had been picking at for the whole ride. His fidgeting fingers settled on fighting themselves, and his eyes searched the room as if he was looking for the story in the eyes of everyone around him.  


“There’s not much to tell. I’m from Berkshire.”  


The older man sitting diagonally to him shook his head, chuckling.  


“That’s it? Your whole life story is that you’re from Berkshire? C’mon, we’ll be spending the next 6 months gambling with death together, at least give us something to work with.”  


Dan bit the inside of his lip, trying to think of anything from his life that was interesting, but not incredibly personal. He wasn’t about to spew his sob story to a helicopter full of people he barely knew.  


He finally opted to shrug and mumble, “I graduated at the top of my class, with some of the highest honors in AIT”  


“Now we’re getting somewhere.” The older man grinned.  
``````````````  


Phil was in his assigned room first, and he slung his bag up onto one of the beds. He didn’t want to set anything up yet, in case he got a roommate who would be picky. He looked around the small room, taking in the space and embraced the openness while it was available. Phil never got to experience a true uni dorm, just the living quarters at boot camp, but from what he had heard, the room he was currently in and a university dorm weren't too far off from each other.  


He walked to the far wall, which was basically just stepping 2 feet away, and carefully lifted the dusty blinds to the outside. Sunlight took the opportunity to stream in, warming the room up significantly. There wasn't much to see in the base, and anything visible beyond the camp fence was sandy. Several other small shacks stood in a row around Phil's, forming a sort of barrier around the central house. Of course the most important person slept there, the head captain.  


He saw some familiar faces hanging around the tables outside and contemplated catching up. Phil hadn’t seen any of them in a while, much less talked to them. Aside from the occasional Facebook “like”, he was disconnected from the friends he had made while in service. From their online profiles, it looked like everyone’s life continued on after their last deployment. People got married, babies were born, houses were bought, family was lost. And then there was Phil.  


Phil’s life hadn’t moved on. When he got back to Rawtenstall his life slowed to a stop. He thought he was going somewhere after he met Mia, but as the party served, he was back to square one. It didn’t help that the war could never leave his mind. His dreams were possessed by nightmares of blood, explosions, and screaming. Oh, the horrible, nauseating screaming. He woke up in a cold sweat, panting, and sometimes crying and screaming to himself. If it wasn’t embarrassing enough to be a 20 year-old man living with his parents, having your mom comfort you after a nightmare was.  


Phil contemplated going over to the others for a minute, finally deciding to just go catch up with everybody. As he walked over to the small group, he mentally prepared an interesting story to match theirs, opting to go for the truth (but leaving out the part about the party).  


``````````````  


He wanted to do this, he wanted to be a soldier. He’d already gone through boot camp, graduating with some of the highest honors during AIT. He was strong, he was prepared, and once he got the order to be shipped out of the country on a tour, he took it immediately. His mother had weeped, his brother had stared up at him with wide, confused eyes. But Dan knew he wanted to do this, he wanted to honour his father somehow. So he took the offer and packed his things, despite the fact he wasn’t to leave until two weeks later.

His mother had insisted on preparing this time, “celebrating” she called it. When Dan left for bootcamp she never got a goodbye, just a scribbled note and a sloppily drawn smiley face to make up for a weak apology. Dan hadn’t wanted to apologize, he saw no reason for it. He wanted to be in the Air Force, he wanted to make up for the memories he never got with his father. There was no need for an apology when he knew what he wanted to do, for probably the first time in his life.

As they stepped off of the aircraft, the recruits were met by the stern gaze of the sun. Voices from the other soldiers surrounded them, and it was overwhelming for Dan. There were so many people, and you’d think he would be used to this from boot camp. Maybe he was, and psyching himself out was just a defense mechanism, a way for him to cope with the new situation. 

They were met halfway off by another man in uniform, which some of the soldiers greeted like an old friend. Dan decided to stick to the back of the group, still adjusting to the new environment. The man began assigning soldiers to their bunk, and the crowd began to disperse. Dan watched as the others walked to their living quarters, small shacks set up in a “U” shape around a much nicer central unit.

“C’mon, quiet boy, you’re in the one next to mine”

Dan turned and saw the older man from the helicopter referring to him. Dan nodded hesitantly, and then followed him past the soldier who was still assigning rooms. Dan looked around as they walked, taking it all in. They walked around the central house, which the soldier referred to as “the boss’ quarters”. There were tables set up behind the central house, and this is where the majority of the soldiers were. Most of them were playing cards on the tables, but others were lounging around or talking to the people around them. It was incredibly laid back, which was a nice change compared to the atmosphere Dan was used to when it came to the army.

Dan took his focus off of the others and directed it back to the small shacks in front of him. The wood they were built out of looked old and worn, but sturdily screwed together to keep out the sand. As far as Dan could see, the shacks were lacking windows (and sufficient space for that matter, but it was shelter over their heads, so Dan wasn’t about to complain. And hey, they didn't have to sleep in tents!) They weren’t incredibly showy, just simple buildings that could be taken down in almost an hour. There wasn’t much that differentiated them, except for the nearly-illegible red numbers painted beside the door, representing the shack’s number. 

“They put you up in number nine,” the older man said, pointing toward an off-center shack with a large “9” sloppily painted on the front. “Im over in seven, if you need something. See ya, quiet boy,” The man turned and started walking down the row of shacks to get to his assigned place. Dan nodded a “thank you” toward the man, even though the older man had turned his back to Dan and probably never saw it. 

Looking up at the building, Dan carefully walked towards the door. He stopped and examined the paint, tracing his finger over the tail of the 9, which overlapped onto the door frame. He took a deep breath, a little nervous over meeting his room mate. Dan had never really been good about meeting new people, and usually he wouldn’t have taken this too seriously. But he was going to be here for a while, which probably meant having to interact with his roommate more often than he did with his roommate at university.

Placing his hand on the door handle, Dan took in another breath and pushed open the door into his room. He cautiously stepped inside, expecting to see another person there. Nobody. The room was empty. Dan let out the breath he had been holding and fully stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. He walked over to the bunk beds, seeing a bag had already been placed on the top bunk. “So my roommates already been here…” Dan thought to himself, before placing his bag on the bottom bunk. Carefully, he lowered himself to sit on the bottom bed, forgetting his height and hitting his head on the panel above him.

“Flux capacitor...” Dan mumbled, leaning forward to avoid repeating what he just did. He massaged the back of his head, contemplating asking his roommate to switch bunks.

“Of course,” Dan thought, “I don’t know this guy. For all I know he’s taller and stronger than I am. Just my luck.” 

Dan stopped massaging his head and sighed, letting his hand rest on his leg. He suddenly became very aware that he was still in his uniform, aside from the hat. He had noticed that the soldiers who were at the tables had changed out of their uniforms, so he opted to do the same. He stood, being sure to avoid hitting his head again, and went to change into his regular clothes.

``````````````

The interaction was nice, but Phil couldn’t help but feel isolated from the rest of the group. As he predicted, his friends only talked about their new, exciting lives, and Phil had very little to mention. They tried to include Phil in their conversation, but since he had opted to tell the truth, his story was nowhere near as interesting as theirs. Eventually he let the subject switch to someone else, and he blended into the background, laughing and nodding when appropriate. 

Eventually, Phil zoned out of the conversation and let his mind wander around the base. A new group of soldiers, and most likely the last one, had just arrived on the helicopters. After being assigned their quarters, the soldiers dispersed into the crowd.

“My roommate’s probably in there,” Phil thought to himself, and he felt his heart jump with excitement. He was anxious about meeting his roommate, curious to see who they were, what kind of personality they had. Phil always enjoyed meeting new people, because everyone was different. Their life stories, personal beliefs, opinions, it was all so intriguing to him. Maybe it was because everyone he met usually had a more exciting backstory than he did, but Phil wasn’t about to fully acknowledge that.

He waited until the right moment in the conversation, and then politely excused himself from the group. He tried to walk nonchalantly over to his assigned bunk, but there was no hiding the exhilaration in his step. He was in front of the door in less than 30 seconds, hand on the doorknob, veins filled with anticipation. “Take a deep breath, Phil, you’re going to give yourself a heart attack, and we haven’t even started the first mission.”

He pushed the door open, expecting to be greeted by the warm, stuffy air that accumulated in the small room when the door was closed, due to the lack of a proper ventilation system. He figured he would just sit and relax until orders, or until his roommate showed up, whichever happened first. 

What he hadn’t figured, was that his roommate would already be there. And changing clothes. Phil wasn’t expecting another person to be standing there, much less shirtless. He stood frozen in the doorframe, not fully sure how to react in this situation. “Ok, well he hasn’t noticed me yet, maybe if I just slowly close the door and wal-”

He had just started to back out of the room, trying to softly close the door, and he tripped over the doorframe. The door hinges creaked, alerting the other person standing in the room. Phil didn’t see their immediate reaction, as he was wallowing in embarrassment in that moment, but he did hear a stammer of indistinguishable words and splutters, followed by the sound of rushed dressing. 

“Ah-are you alright?” The man said, walking towards Phil (who was still bent over in an awkward attempt to avoid the other person).

Phil straightened up rapidly, ignoring the sharp headache that resulted from the headrush. “Me? Yeah, I’m fine. Great. Never been better.” He laughed forcefully, or at least attempted to, because the sound he made sounded rather like a sick cat. 

The man standing in front of him readjusted his shirt, and both of them stood in a long silence before Phil became very aware that the door was still open. He fumbled to close it without moving from his spot, which resulted in him tripping over his feet and hitting his side with the door. After a few awkward attempts, he opted just to step back and fully close the door. 

When he turned back to face his roommate, they were literally inches away from each other’s face. Phil felt his cheeks grow warm and he attempted to say an apology, stepping backwards, his body being stopped by the now closed door. The sudden force caught him off guard, causing him to lose his balance and fall to the floor.

Cheeks burning, Phil tried to recompose himself, figuring that there was literally nothing that could be more embarrassing than this first impression. The man had sat down on the bottom bunk when Phil looked up again. He was playing with the sleeve on his shirt, and he looked almost as red as Phil. 

“What is he embarrassed for? He didn’t completely trip over himself” Phil thought to himself. Taking a few more deep breaths, Phil stood up and stepped away from the doorway. He chuckled at first, and then full out laughed at the ridiculous event that had just taken place. The other man looked up, startled by Phil’s sudden outburst. 

“Well, that was one hell of a hello.” Phil said, walking over to the bed where the other man was. 

“I’m Phil, an Airman: first class. I haven’t seen you on a mission before.”  
The man cleared his throat and adjusted the hem of his shirt again, “uhm, well, I’m Dan, and I just graduated, so this is my first time being deployed.”

Phil smiled slightly. He remembered his first mission right out of military training, where everyone was anxious out of their minds. It had overall gone well, they completed their mission successfully in two weeks, and everyone got to go home soon after.

Trying to keep the conversation going, Phil changed the subject, “I hope you don’t mind, but I took the top bunk. Usually I’m taller than the mate I’m bunked with, but I think we’re just about equally tall. We can switch, if you want, I don’t really mind being on top or bottom bunk.”

The man shook his head, “I don’t mind sleeping on the bottom, I’d prefer it actually. I’m closer to the ground, so if we need to get up quickly for some reason, it’d be easier for me.”

Phil nodded, knowing that, even if they’d never been called at night before, on this mission it was very likely. The Head Captain was particularly secretive in the objection of this mission, and from what Phil had heard from his friends, was refusing to answer any questions on the matter. Every piece of information that traveled around the base turned out to be a rumor, and the secretivity made Phil anxious; nervous almost. For all he knew, they could just be out here to blow up some villages, or worse. But Phil trusted the Head Captain, and based on the last few times they had worked together, knew that the Captain was a good guy.

Looking at his watch, Phil noted they had about 2 hours before dinner. He looked back at Dan, who was still looking around the small room. 

“Dinner’s at 18:00 hours, and they won’t announce anything until tonight. We’ve got down time until then. I assume you saw the tables when you came in. That’s where most people are during this time, whether they’re playing cards, interacting, or some people go out there to rest. I’m going to set up my stuff in here, and you can do whatever you want right now.

Dan nodded absentmindedly, and carefully ducked under the top bunk to lay down on the old mattress. He closed his eyes and began to think of home, of his mother, his brother, his old room. He could hear Phil shuffling around and readjusting the mattress above him, an occasional frustrated sigh breaking the calming silence in the room. Dan turned over and let out a sigh, thinking about his brother and their days playing in the backyard together as kids. 

Phil stopped moving things around when he heard Dan. “Sorry if I’m being too loud, I can do this later if you need to sleep”

Dan shook his head, rolling over onto his back to stare at the beams of the top bunk. “No, it’s alright. Do you need some help?”

Phil looked at the mess he had made unpacking his suitcase, then decided to accept Dan’s offer, shyly nodding his head.

Dan rolled out of the bed, stretching his arms before standing up to see the absolute disaster Phil had made. The soldiers didn’t have to bring any clothes besides their downtime clothes; the uniforms they wore off base for this mission were going to be provided by the base. Something about the uniforms having “special protection” or whatever installed. Dan really wasn’t going to try and question the higher-ups on his first mission, and it meant being able to pack a smaller bag anyways. 

He wanted to leave as much as he could at home, for his mother’s sake. His brother said the last time Dan left, their mom had gone into his room every day to see what was missing. One day, his brother had found their mom sitting on Dan’s bedroom floor, sobbing because Dan had taken a book off his bookshelf with him, and there was a hole where the book had been. She kept saying something about the book being a “metaphorical symbol” and that Dan was trying to tell her something by choosing to take Tom Sawyer with him. In reality, Tom Sawyer was Dan’s favorite book in middle school, and when you’re packing in the dark at 2am, you’re likely to grab the first book that reminds you of home. Dan and his mother discussed what could stay and what had to come with him this time.

Phil had a blanket spread out on top of the mattress already, and everything from inside the suitcase was on top of it. An old, weathered shoe box was the first thing Dan noticed. The once-shiny labeling was peeling away from the cardboard, which was torn and dusty despite having held brand-new shoes only 3 years ago. 

Phil saw Dan’s eyes come to rest on the shoebox on his bed, and he moved quickly to put the box back in his suitcase before Dan could ask any questions. It was like his diary, and he didn’t want anyone reading it, especially not somebody he just met. Maybe if he and Dan became good friends later in the mission, he could give some answers. Maybe. But for now, the box was his secret.

Dan hadn’t meant to stare, and he felt immensely embarrassed when Phil defensively hid the box back in his suitcase. He tried to stammer out an apology, finally coming up with a, “sorry,” and a few other garbled words. Phil shook his head, dismissing the topic and temporarily Dan’s shame. 

Dan turned his focus back on the rest of the items on Phil’s bed. There was still a mess of what appeared to be random stuff. “Is there anything you specifically want me to do?” Dan asked, turning and waiting for instructions. 

Phil looked towards the small storage unit, which was too small to properly be called a chest of drawers, and gestured towards it. “I have some extra supplies you can put on there.”

Dan nodded, and noted the water bottles, first aid kits, and other supplies Phil had off to one side. “Any specific reason you brought those? Doesn’t the supply bureau provide those for us?” Dan asked, grabbing a stack of tissue boxes and placing them on the small storage box.

“You’d be surprised. About 3 weeks into the last mission I was on, they told us they were rationing on a lot of stuff. People were bartering and stealing, it got a little chaotic. Our leaders kept sending us out on nonsensical missions just to get people out of the base,” Phil laughed, “I remember I was sent on one with this guy, and they had run out of those,” Phil pointed towards the tissues Dan just moved, “and he had really bad allergies at the time. They sent us out to find some sort of substitute. We drove all around the village we were stationed outside of. He ended up just using a dirty shirt we found on the ground. Kept it with him up until the moment he died.” 

Dan paused sorting through the extra pairs of socks, surprised by Phil’s bluntness. He had never heard someone talk about death so...casually, like that. He figured Phil was a seasoned soldier; he seemed to know a lot about the base and knew enough to bring extra supplies for everyone else, but Dan never really thought about everything else that came with being sent off to war. It never crossed his mind that most of the people he was stationed with had seen someone been killed, or even had killed someone themselves. 

Phil let himself forget the memory, trying not to focus on the screams, or the blood, or the look on Private Joel’s face when the rebels shot him for waving around the shirt of one of their men who had been killed in an attack. He turned back to face Dan, who was quiet in his task of matching socks. 

“So I decided to bring extra supplies this time,” Phil continued as if nothing happened, “I don’t want to see anarchy on this mission.” He picked up the first aid kits from his bed and went to go sort them beside Dan, whose shaking hands gave away his composed facade.

Dan tried to find the right thing to say, whether that was a “thank you” for Phil’s consideration, or an “I’m sorry” for his loss, asking in the first place, making their first encounter awkward, there was a whole list Dan could choose from. But before he could say anything, a bell rang from outside.

“That’s dinner,” Phil said, putting down the last item he was sorting and turning to Dan, “don’t believe the other guys about getting there later to avoid the line, they’re just messing with you. If we want the best stuff, we better go now.”

Dan nodded, setting the stuff he was sorting down and gesturing to the door.  
“Lead the way.”


End file.
